


Les souvenirs d'un père accidentel

by HopefulTraveler



Category: Inkwyrm (Podcast)
Genre: Father/child relationship, First chapter very vaguely, Gen, and also imaginary major character death, i love them both so much, mention Robert hands being burnt, so stay safe, theyre both kind of messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulTraveler/pseuds/HopefulTraveler
Summary: The memories , relationship, and life of Robert Aphelion, the dad to the universe’s oldest child and Fae, a thousand year old being with the world’s most loveable asshole of a dad.





	Les souvenirs d'un père accidentel

It’s funny what people do and do not remember. Robert doesn’t remember the details of his first birthday or his mother’s favorite flower. He doesn’t, or doesn’t really care enough to remember the name of his first teacher.  
Robert doesn’t remember what his parents looked like when he killed them.

However, Robert does remember the pain that licked at his hands like a flame. The all consuming, terrifying flash of pain that robbed Robert of his hands, of a part of himself he would never truly have back.  
Strangely enough, the thing he remembers the most though is the tablecloth.

He’s being held against a kitchen table, his head being shoved into the hard wood, hands behind his back and he can see an intricate lace tablecloth that only went on the table when people weren’t eating.  
Which Robert thought was, kind of moronic honestly. Why would you have a tablecloth if you’re weren’t going to use it?  
Why have something that’s had no use, no function, except making you look good?  
Why would you foster a kid that you were afraid of?

When pain started to shoot through his veins in the moments before passing out he remembers hearing screaming. He doesn’t know if it was him, or his brother, or the person holding him down but the screaming loops in his ears.  
He can feel the tears tears running down his face and he’s in so much pain and he’s so, so scared. The tablecloth is itchy and rough against his cheek and at this very moment he decides he fucking hates tablecloths.

As soon as he’s free from whosever holding him down he whips around and he can feel his emotions in his gut twist and turn and he’s so angry and scared that he just takes all of his emotions and pushes outwards and-  
And suddenly he is facing Fae.  
Fae whose giggles sound like bells, Fae who likes to stick bandaids on his face when he’s sleeping, Fae who likes to hide in the rafters and scare people, Fae who makes Robert feel like a dad, Fae whose face has a bright smile that quickly distorts into fear. 

In horror, he watches their figure distort. He watches as beautiful, bright Fae writhes in pain midair like some tormented doll on marionette strings except instead of streams they are sparking wires and Robert’s the unwilling puppet master. The light flickers like a light bulb and their figure start to drop from the air. Robert lunges forward and catches their small body in his arms, cradling them in his ruined hands. Fae flickers once, twice, and suddenly Robert is surrounded by darkness. 

Robert wakes up with tear tracks on his face, a scream ringing in his ears, and a yell in his throat.

His hands are shaking and he knows they won’t stop for awhile so he does his best to ignore them and does the one thing that will calm his racing heart.

He tiptoes as quietly as he can to the quarters next door and cracks the door open, and something in his chest feels whole again when he can see the faint pulsing light of Fae even through the crack. 

Robert’s not entirely sure if they need sleep, but he isn’t going to begrudge Fae anything they want to do.  
They are curled up in a mass of pillows and blankets that they have collected from around the base. Robert curiously recognizes a plush blanket that looks like Annie’s, but he also knows that besides Robert, Annie would be the last person in the galaxy to deny Fae anything.

They look fine and whole, and that should be enough, and Robert should go back to bed and everything will be fine.  
But it isn’t, it really isn’t, and with a sigh he quietly slips into the room and takes residence in the arm chair across the room. He watches the light until his eyes become too heavy to keep open.

He doesn’t remember going to sleep, but he wakes up the next morning with a blanket wrapped around him, a cup of coffee on the table next to him, and a bright pulsing thousand year old being sitting crisscross applesauce reading a book and leaning their back against his armchair. Then, and only then, does he lets himself breathe and his hands calm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think. I’m planning to make this into a series focusing on Robert, Fae, and their relationship and if you have any suggestions of bonding activities between Robert and Fae or anything else I’d love to hear them!


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